


The Last Mistake I'd Ever Make

by OpenWar (MyOhMandy)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Classic Kylux, Hux is Not Nice, Jealousy, Knights of Ren - Freeform, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Phasma Novel Spoilers, Possessive Behavior, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Sort Of, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-03-19 03:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13695528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOhMandy/pseuds/OpenWar
Summary: With Snoke gone, the internal structure of the FO begins to shift.Phasma is still missing, Kylo laments the loss of his bond with Rey, and Hux attempts to steer the FO in the "right" direction. As the stress of leading the First Order builds, Kylo and Hux will have to rethink the ways they deal with stress - and each other.Updates weekly.





	1. Claustrophobia and Leather

    Kylo Ren’s shoulder shoved hard against the general’s as he walked by. Anyone else would have flinched away - even Phasma would have stepped out of his path, but not the general.

The jolt made Hux replay that moment in his mind on the Finalizer when the three of them had been discussing the escape of the droid. Ren’s threat wrapped in his sarcasm. Phasma had stepped back, hesitant. Hux knew she wouldn’t get in the way of someone like Ren unless she had to: unless she could crush him.

She may have been Hux’s ally - his greatest one at the moment no doubt if she still lived -  but it suited neither her rank not her position to play the same dangerous game Hux had become so accustomed to.

   He trusted her as much as anyone. If Ren had the knights, Hux had Phasma and their stormtroopers. Quantity would have to make due in place of nominal measures of power. Hux didn’t understand the force. Oh well. So what if he couldn’t read the cryptic texts he’d seen scattered in Ren’s room on the occasion when he’d been forced to fetch him or made to scold him or - perhaps if he dared - poured over haphazardly while Ren was away from the ship.

Not that he had ever sunk himself so low. And so what if he didn’t always understand the nuances of the Supreme Leader’s decisions, his little games with Ren. Those were all ash now and so was Snoke, or what was left of him. He’d been ignited into a crisp at the behest of Kylo Ren, and Hux felt only a passing twitch of hesitation before he recited the order back to his subordinates.

   “You heard him,” his voice had been curdled with resentment. “Burn it all.” Kylo Ren’s eyes had watched his face calmly though Hux didn’t meet his gaze. It was fixed fearlessly on the arm still clutching grotesquely to the throne. Snoke looked wretched, and he was just in minimally worse shape than their godforsaken ship had been, thanks to that purple haired bitch and Kylo Ren’s incessant need to please the first girl to give him the goddamned time of day.

Well, the Supremacy would be back in the fray soon enough, even if mostly as spare parts. The first order was hardly lacking for resources, and the Finalizer was where he preferred to live anyways. The Supremacy was Snoke’s flagship, and it had been more than able accommodate him but the general allowed himself few indulgences and his room on the Finalizer was one of them. Nevermind that Kylo Ren’s was near identical, a sister to his own in design - a careless, poorly kept sister, but a sister nonetheless. Phasma’s chrome mask had gleaned, always looking freshly polished except when in battle.

It was another thing he respected about her, and Ren, admittedly. Their armor always shined on the ship, so much so that seeing them return from the glory of a successful battle, no matter how minor or how easily won, always sent a small thrill, a small strike of pride through his chest. Smudges of dirt, or strangle plants or better - blood - on their armor. It was quite thrilling.

   “General Hux,” she began, before launching into a brief on the reason for the disturbance. For nearly anyone else there might have been a pause after the greeting in which he would have inquired why they were doing disturbing him so late (not that he had been sleeping). Phasma and Hux were past such formalities of a casual acquaintance. “I’ve just awoken Ren, per indirect orders from the Supreme Leader.” She added.

   “Alright,” He’d sighed, though he saw no reason to get so bent out of shape over something so little.

   “Pardon my curiosity, sir,” she didn’t pause to wait for the pardon: “have you seen Ren’s room’s before?”

   The question had caught him off guard, startling his sleep-deprived brain. He’d have to consider taking another stim if this took too long. He’d gone two days without sleep, he was pushing his limits. He’d planned to go to sleep an hour ago, but there were issues in the construction of Starkiller that had demanded his immediate attention, and like hell, he was going to let anyone else kark it up.

   “Yes,” he said hesitantly. “Why do you ask?” he didn’t need more than a moment in his doorway to straighten himself out before he’d followed her into the hallway, smoothing down his uniform and slicking his hair back with an ungloved hand. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t the time for perfect.

   “Your father had a more...decadent arrangement in the room before you. Yours are...Severe. It suits you.” her voice betrayed no emotion, but he thought she approved. It hadn’t been very long since Armitage’s predecessor had been killed at hands of a “mysterious and fast acting illness”. The act had been the end of any doubt remaining between them in their alliance, though at that point they’d known each other for a few years - Hux having been on the ship that had rescued Brendol Hux and Phasma from her dying planet. Still if there had been any room for doubt before then, it had evaporated in that act. “They rather resemble Kylo Ren’s. Surprised me to see it, in his room. The mess they were covered in surprised me less.” The inflection of her voice was curtly judgmental. 

   Hux let a small downturned smirk surface as they walked to the bridge of the ship to deal with the issue. “Such barbarism must be rounded off somewhere,” he reasoned. “If only slightly, and if only in inclination towards taste and not the actualization of it. Ren is a child, seeing his room in proper array seems as likely as landing on Alderaan.”

   “Indeed, sir.” She said. But when they’d joined with Ren he’d had a look in his eye, his hair disheveled and his face maskless in this meeting that only constituted the three of them (no need to protect his identity here, even though the mask had never been anything better than a haphazardous precaution outside of battle) like he knew what they’d been discussing, if only briefly.

   If there had been any petty pleasure in Ren’s face now, it would be free to see, if only he were walking in the opposite direction as Hux. He’d deliberately avoided Hux’s eyes as he’d shoved passed him, had a habit of deliberately avoiding eyes or boring, too deeply, into them. Just another thing he had no clue how to moderate.

   Hux’s throat felt tight at the thought of Kylo Ren’s inability to restrain himself. It wasn’t as tender as it might’ve been, but he felt the tenderness in his windpipe, and would for days. He was no fool, however. After the most recent assault in the attack on Crait, he’d been to the infirmary. The general may not have been an expert in the force, but he did his goddamned research. When Snoke’s desperation and anger had turned to physical violence, he had begun to take precautions.

There was an emergency system installed in his room he could use to call a medic if necessary, for anything from a concussion - he’d so far only had one, very minor - to a bruised ankle. It was a precaution put into place not simply to protect himself from Snoke and Ren - he had other enemies aboard the ship, he knew.

Even as he had questioned Captain Edrison Peavey about the structure and function of the Empire, as well as the torture methods of Darth Vader, he had never for a second thought of the man as a true ally. He’d learned from Peavey and others Vader’s proclivity for torture via the force. There were rumors, of course, but he would be damned if he were going to rely on them when he had a primary source nearby. When he had first felt the clutch of invisible hands to his throat by Ren, there had been a part of him that was not surprised. Ren had already attacked a few others among their ranks, but he had never yet dared to do so to Hux, not until recently. His research served him well.

You could strangle a man, let him go, and still have him dead within 48 hours if the damage to their throat were severe enough, especially if the damage went undiagnosed. Personally, Hux had been told there was no bleeding, no permanent damage, and this was good because he’d only sought medical attention after the last attack when he’d been sick.

As it was, he had some trouble swallowing and breathing was slightly uncomfortable. Thanks to Ren and there was a smattering of ugly bruises on his chest and his knees in accompaniment with the wound on his lip from Snoke. He felt the urge to turn after Ren and shove him and scream in his face, but he let himself be content with the thought of it.

Behind him, he thought he heard Ren pause. He pictured him tilting his head, considering a response. Hux’s vision of Ren taking a hard fist to the face became clearer in his mind during the pause.

“General?” The voice shook him from his thin fantasy, and he turned his attention to the voice: some lieutenant. “We think Phasma may be alive. It seems several people nearly jolted in the collision on the Supremacy has been recovered. It’s unconfirmed, but we believe Phasma may be among them.”

He felt his teeth sink into this news like a fresh kill. His head snapped in the direction stone-faced woman he was new to working with.

“Where are they now?” He asked keenly.

“They’ve just been located. They’re being moved to another dreadnought where they can be seen after properly, it’s unclear how many survived.” She was looking down at the screen in front of her again, her eyes narrowed and hawkish. “It’s unclear exactly what state she’s in if it’s her.”

“Understood,” Hux replied. So we know a lot of nothing essentially, he thought. “Tell them to document everything, and to report back to us the second anything changes. If it is Phasma, it should be a prio--”

“Yes, that’s enough, General.”

Hux turned so quickly it was almost like a flash. Kylo Ren was looking at him, his eyes placid.

“I--”

“I imagine a lieutenant who was deemed clever enough to assist in the maintenance of our ship will prove herself capable enough to understand that it would be bad to lose a major asset at a time like this.” Kylo interrupted again. Hux could see the faint amusement in his face, even from here.

“Common sense does seem to be lacking these days,” Hux replied curtly. Kylo’s right hand twitched threateningly. His throat tensed instinctively but Hux didn’t break the stare. He had never been afraid of Kylo Ren, and he wasn’t going to start today.

“That much is true,” Kylo said flatly. “We have matters to discuss, General. Come with me.”

He hesitated for a moment and then moved to follow. There was no use in making a scene; it wouldn’t serve either of them to have one of their major leaders doubting the other. Already Hux knew others in the First Order would be whispering about the weakness having two young leaders might cause. That was one thing Ren and Hux had in common, anyways. Their youth and their lineage both boasted of their prowess and served as a weakness to their infallibility.

He and Ren would have to work together, he’d accepted that aboard the AT-M6 on Crait. Not at first - he had still been riding the high he’d felt when he’d put his hand on his gun on the Supremacy, staring down at the massive crumpled body of Kylo Ren. When he’d pulled himself to full height and begun blathering (pointless) lies about _that_ _girl_ killing Snoke, Hux had lost it for a moment.

Now, with the adrenaline of that near execution and the death of their Supreme Leader behind him, he could see clearly that the best course of action was to work with Ren, at least for now. Though he still felt the ache on the back of his skull from when Ren had tossed him across the room on the AT-M6, an over-dramatic response to a genuine expression of concern.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Hux asked once they had left the bridge.

“Somewhere we can discuss the future of the first order in private.” Kylo Ren replied briskly. Hux followed him, unsure of where it was they were going, for about five minutes before Ren paused and opened a door to their left.

“Isn’t that--”

“Get inside, General!” Kylo said, grabbing him and yanking him inside by the fabric of his arm.

“It’s a janitorial droid’s closet,” Hux said in the dark. There was hardly any space of the two of them. “And the droid’s still _here_! Honestly, Ren--”

“An oversight,” Ren said, slightly sheepish. He was squished back up against the small droid, and Hux was crammed in together against him, the closed door pressed to his back.

“You can’t _honestly_ expect--” He would’ve pressed himself further back against the door to bring his face further away from Ren’s, but the back of his skull was still tender. The little closet left them enough room to stand with the droid still there, but only just. They were far too close. He could see the small black graft on Ren’s scar with uncomfortable clarity this close together. It didn’t look half bad, for a warrior. In fact, it rather suited him. The area was still pink, still tender.

Hux wanted to press a thumb against it until he cried out in pain.

“Hux, shut up,” Kylo interrupted, sounding exasperated. “We _have_ to work together, you know this.” he was doing his best to maintain his dignity in the small space, which was not built for someone his height. Hux was only a couple of inches shorter, but with a frame slender and lean where Ren’s was muscular and bulky.

Ren tried to shift back a little - his frame slightly hunched almost over Hux as it was, but he nearly knocked the droid over on its side. He cursed. “We have to be sure our rooms aren’t being monitored.”

“It’s too soon for that,” Hux replied surely. “It begins with whispers, but they’ll wait. They’ll wait and watch and if we bungle too much up, then they’ll kill us. Besides, Ren, while I’d wager our rooms _are_ safe, I have to imagine that droid you’re half sitting on is not going to need to be wiped just to secure this conversation. Now, before you go off again ranting about something, tell me this, if we’re going to work together.”

“What?” Ren demanded. His breath was hot against Hux’s face, and Hux squirmed back against it.

“Did anyone see you throw yourself at that girl? Is there anyone besides the two of us we need to be worried about?”

Ren was silent for a moment. In the dim light of the closet, Hux could see that vulnerability glimmering in his eyes, swimming in his anger.

“I don’t know what it is you’re implying--”

“Ren, be serious.” Hux said; it was his turn to interrupt. “I’m no fool. Whatever it was doesn’t matter. What matters is that we maintain the dignity of our Supreme Leader, do you understand? Whatever dignity he has left.” he added resentfully.

Ren paused, his eyes boring deeply in to the general’s, and again he didn’t flinch. He stared stubbornly back, eyes like fire.

“You’re _still_ not afraid of me.” Ren said, his voice sounded - more than just surprised. “Even now - General Hux, do you have a death wish?” It wasn’t a threat; he sounded genuinely curious.

“Answer the question, Ren.”

“You first, General.”

“Do you not think, in light of recent events, I should be granted a more proper title?” Hux bristled. The little closet was too hot. He was feeling claustrophobic, but he’d die before he showed it. He stood up straighter, though this only brought them closer, only served to make him more aware of how trapped they were even as he pushed the thought out of his mind. “I promise you Ren, I am not the one here with a death wish. Just another issue for us to work through. Now, if we’re going to work together on this Ren, you need to be honest with me, like it or not. What the hell happened with that girl?”

“Look at you, even now, lobbying for a better title. Tell me, how much did it burn to know that the Snoke was toying with you? How far will you go to get what you want, _General_?”

Hux sighed. “That’s enough.” His right hand groped back for the control to open the door, but it stopped before he could press it. Ren’s hand held tight to his wrist, Hux’s back pressed to the door as Kylo pushed forward to take up more of the space in the closet.

“I guess redheads really do have a temper.” he said a bit lightly. Hux scoffed. He was relieved, though, that Ren had not used the force to grab his hand.

“Please, don’t tell me that the man single handedly responsible for thousands of credits worth of damage is going to lecture _me_ about my temper. You’re wasting my time. Let me go.” His hand flexed in the grip, which didn’t lessen.

“Snoke told me to kill the girl,” Ren said in a rush. Hux’s attention snapped back to his face. Ren wasn’t looking at him, his gaze pointedly downwards. “She is a Skywalker, like me. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Does she _know_ ”? Hux asked, horrified. The _last_ thing the galaxy needed was another Skywalker. “What _happened, Ren_?”

“The girl knows nothing. Snoke was overconfident, and he was weak. It had been decades since he had properly ventured into battle. It was time for a new leader, someone younger with the power to fight. I killed him. The guards attacked, and we fought together. I told her to join the First Order, but she attacked me and left. She’s convinced her parents were nobody. Anyone who might have told her otherwise is either dead - or has yet to do so thus far.”

Hux’s heart was racing, but most the news was roughly what he’d expected to hear. Well, except that Ren had killed Snoke to save his--what, sister? Cousin? That type of sentiment was dangerous.

“She’s our enemy, Ren.” Hux said cooly.

“I’m aware, _General_. But no one who saw lived. Only myself, only you, who saw the aftermath, and those who came to clear out the throne room have the slightest idea of what went on in that place. Does that satisfy you?” He said the words into Hux’s ear, and he shivered away, pressing back against the door.

“Hardly,” Hux replied stonily, keeping his composure. “As for the rest of it - “

“The rest of it?”

“No more attacking, do you understand me Ren?” he sounded like was disciplining a droid. “When you lash out at me it looks bad. We have to be a united front, or else those in the First Order will start to doubt our credibility.”

“What if we’re alone when I hurt you?” Ren taunted.

“As for this general nonsense--dispense of it immediately. You need the help of the Grand Marshal, or better - a Grand Moff, _not_ a general, do you understand?” Hux continued, attempting to ignore Ren entirely. 

Kylo gave a small laugh.

“Don’t tell me Tarkin was your grandfather,” he said - teasing.

“If that’s all--” Hux jerked his wrist away. “I expect to see you show your face at the event next cycle. It may not feel like a time to celebrate, but appearances must be made, discussions must be had.” The door behind him slid open and he nearly stumbled he retreated to immediately. “Next time, summon me to your quarters. This is unnecessary.”

“Was it?” Ren asked huskily, even as Hux began to walk away. “I think it was exactly what I needed.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one is a bit dry, but I promise it's going to pick up. The pacing on this one is definitely *out there*, but rest assured, I have a plan.


	2. Held In My Sights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren continues to taunt Hux, but he plays the game. He's counting on being underestimated.

Hux looked more perturbed than pleased when Kylo saw him the next afternoon for the ‘celebration’ of the victory against the resistance. It didn’t feel like a victory to Kylo Ren, however, who had let his cousin slip through his fingers after having her so close. And there was the matter of Snoke as well - part of him was relieved to have freedom from the presence he’d had haunting him for so long. But gone with him was any chance of doubt he’d allowed himself. He could no longer press blame upon the seduction of the dark side for his actions. There was no one to whom he could pose his questions about fate or destiny, there was only the force. And in the force there lurked other voices he felt a real fear he might hear, though as of yet he had been spared. Rey had heard some of the old Jedi, hadn’t she? In her vision? Ren wouldn’t allow himself to be scared away from mediating, but his uncle's words stuck in his head regardless:

_“Strike me down in anger and I’ll always be with you. Just like your father.”_

The words had struck him like iron, ringing cold against his bones. They had only made him angrier. He would _never_ yield to Skywalker, dead or alive.

Well. Leia Organa could be left to the General if it came to that. But Luke - his blood boiled at the thought of him. He would’ve been able to strike him down, had he shown himself. He wouldn’t let any morsels of sympathy for that sham of a Jedi slip into him now. He felt the darkness swallowing him up, the light petering out weakly.

And Rey. Even as she escaped further away with the resistance, he knew with every second they came closer to their end, and next time he didn’t think he would hesitate to strike her down. Surely, if the Knights of Ren were there, he would not hesitate. Though he was loathed to admit it to himself, it _mattered_ . With the eyes of his fellow dark force users and Hux on him, he would be too confident. _Snoke underestimated me. Rey underestimated me._ His hands twitched with anger. _Leaving me alive will be the biggest mistake the resistance has ever made._

“You’re here.” the General said. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, the General having made his way from across the room while Ren was lost in his revelry, staring blankly out across the busy screens and officials buzzing around them. “All that you need to do is reassure them. Stand your ground, reassert your authority. _Try_ not to attack anybody. No detailed plans for the next move need be made here; we can reconvene on those later after we’ve had a chance to discuss them privately, at which point essential personnel may be informed. Understood?”

Kylo sniffed in reply. “Don’t get in my way,” he said. “And I won’t get in yours.” He shoved past him, not sure where he was going.

 

* * *

 

“You look tired, General,” Ren said. “Perhaps you’re getting too old for all this.”

Hux bristled. He had been officially promoted, the announcement made early in the night. It had been a bizarre moment, but he had done most of the talking. Announcing himself and Ren as the new leaders of the First Order, feeling the eyes of admiration from some, respect from others, and resentment from the rest. People would think them weak if they didn’t stand together. Ren stood by his side, the hood on his wraith-like robes over his head, hair tousled but clean - like a creature from some cursed outer-rim planet. Next to Hux, he looked like a harbinger of death.

When he spoke - which had been very little - his eyes had flashed with something dark, his voice low and steady. Hux was pleased if slightly amused, by the trouble Ren had gone through to impress upon their subordinates his superiority and the potential for his power. He was also, if only slightly, drunk.

Alcohol had only been brought out after the announcements had been made, and Hux had made an exception. He'd spent too long at the feet of Snoke and at the mercy of Ren, denied of the true acclaim and praise he'd earned. He was young, yes, but he was good at his job. Even coming from Ren - or maybe because it came from Ren - he had felt the satisfaction too keenly to pass up a little vice. 

“Will the old man allow me to escort him to his room?” And maybe...Kylo was too. 

“I’m barely four years your senior,” Hux retorted coolly under his breath as they began to leave. It was good to be seen leaving together. They needed to be a united front, or at least to appear as one.

“Oh? I’m flattered, General. I didn’t realize you’d gone to the trouble of finding my birth day. Should I expect a gift?” his voice was low and even as he spoke. The Sky-Solo family was renowned for that humor. Hux thought better of pointing this out.

“Grand Moff,” Their banter was interrupted by a subordinate. A young, up-and-coming lieutenant named Datol who’d recently been transferred under Hux to take over the stormtrooper training program. He was also in charge of collecting updates for Hux about Phasma. He was a trim man in his mid-thirties or so with short blond hair and brown eyes. “Supreme Leader,” he said in acknowledgment. Hux wondered if Datol should bow.

He didn’t. He turned back to Hux. “There’s still no concrete news on Phasma. I’ve been told the recovery team has encountered some issues, but we could have confirmation any minute if she’s alive.”

“Alright, Lieutenant,” Hux replied. And then when he didn’t leave, “Anything else?”

“I have some concerns I’d like to brief you on. The sooner we can discuss them.”

Hux could feel Ren bristle next to him. As much as Hux didn’t want to deal with Ren, it was better to leave by the side of the supreme leader than some wet-nosed lieutenant. Hux opened his mouth to reply.

“The Grand Moff and I have much to discuss.” The supreme leader spoke Hux before he could get a word out. Hux ‘s cold gaze shift to Ren, though he would’ve said the same. He turned back to Datol in time to see his eyes peel away from him to look at Ren. “Go on, now. You heard me.” he said with all the concern and respect of shooing excusing a droid. Datol nodded a bit stiffly and went on his way. Historically, it was bad luck to in Kylo Ren’s sights in any capacity.

A superior pilot, volatile emotions, the mystery of the force and now near-boundless power in the first order. But Kylo needed to move past his days of casual destruction, or he needed to let Hux step forward as his true ally. The only way the First Order could flourish would be at the helm of power _and_ stability. Hux watched Kylo’s face as Datol left.

“Don’t start with me, Ren. You’ve shot us in the foot enough times already. I’m retiring to my quarters.” Hux made his way back into the hallway, on his way to find a transport back to the _Finalizer_. Kylo followed.  

“So soon? Perhaps you really are getting old. One promotion and you’re already slacking off.” They had stopped down a quiet hallway, having detached themselves from the crowd. Ren moved to face him, keeping close, as if he really _did_ think they were being monitored.

“I’m attending to _work_ , Ren, unless you have something more pressing.”

“A bedtime story, perhaps? Or maybe you need me to tuck you in?” he was being incessantly childish. Their shoulders brushed as they walked down the quiet hallway of the ship. It had been some time since Hux had been on it - it was a smaller build, made more for defense and subtly as to avoid attracting attention. More luxurious than the other ships of the First Order, but not by too much. The room Hux had been allotted to stay in wasn’t directly furnished by or for him, and truthfully he’d yet to actually see it, but he’d seen on his datapad the previous cycle that it was adjacent to - and in fact, connected, to Kylo Ren’s.

“If that’s all,” Hux paused at a right turn that would lead him to the transports. Straight ahead would lead to their quarters.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kylo asked sharply. Hux saw the features in his face take on a harder edge, but they still had that same familiar twitch of nervousness at the corner.

“I’m taking a transport back to the Finalizer,” Hux replied curtly.

“No.” Kylo said, his expression grew dark with a familiar shade of stubbornness.

“ _No_ \--?” Hux repeated, taken aback. But then, he had insisted Hux accompany him on Crait as well. He wasn’t giving Hux the rope it would take him to hang himself - either of them, for that matter.

“You know what I mean. If I’m on this ship, so are you, and there’s no way in hell I’m sitting on a transport for three hours again today. There’s business to attend to, as you said.” He flipped his hair out of his face a little as he spoke. His hands remained by his sides, unclenched, but his shoulders were getting tense.

“Fine.” Hux said coldly, unwilling to risk a tantrum. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STORY NOTES:
> 
> \-- I did some minor research on [American] military titles IRL and those used on record in canon in the empire and in the FO, and decided while writing the first chapter to go with Grand Moff instead of Grand Marshal (as nice as it rings to the ear).  
> \-- It's also not a mistake that despite the promotion, Kylo continues to call Hux "general" when they're alone.  
> \-- Datol is completely made up. I looked at officers in the FO and when I couldn't pick one, I combined two of their names and ran with it.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I'll try to update in a week, but please, please, please! If you're enjoying this leave comments! They make my heart warm and they're the best motivator through and through.


	3. Borderline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone, things escalate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember if I ever mentioned this explicitly, but I prefer Ren's look with the black grafting he has in the first third of TLJ that seems to be aiding in stitching together his skin.  
> Like, that scar is fine and dandy but I love the look of that black grafting, esp during those close-ups. So in this fic, he 100% just still has it. That's his face forever now, sorry not sorry Kylo.
> 
>  
> 
> sorry this chapter took a little longer to come out!  
> spring break shenanigans and all that.

It had all happened rather suddenly.

“Ren --” Hux tried to protest. Kylo looked up at him, and Hux’s twisted expression was met with the same vicious hunger you’d see in a starving vornskr, its long jaws cracked open as it prepared to bite into the reptilian skin of a ysalamir. His eyes were burning. How the fuck had this even happened? 

Kylo’s head bowed again, and the only sound in the room was a loud, horrific slurp, followed by a small gasp. “Ahhh - Ren - “ Hux’s entire body was tense. His hand gripped tight and awkwardly on the back of Ren’s throat, his thumb perched under Ren’s ear, but he felt powerless to do anything. He could - he could shove Ren away, or slip his grip into a throttle; he ran his fingers through Kylo’s hair instead. He should stop this - he wanted to want to stop this, but he was overwhelmed. Looking down and seeing Ren submit to him; his face alight with rage like somehow this was all Hux’s fault.

The primal rage he felt emanating from the other man even as Ren’s thick pink lips ran over his skin, the fear he had tried so long to inspire in Hux finally alive in his chest. He felt Kylo’s hands on the sides of his thighs, tugging his pants down his legs roughly. Hux’s free hand tried to grab at his, tried to stop him and peel it away but Kylo made a sound like “ _hmmm_ ” around his dick as he brushed his hand away and it was delicious and horrible and he felt it all the way up his spine. “R-Ren...” Hux groaned.

He wanted to plant his eyes on Kylo forever, to never forget this. But he also wanted to close his eyes and let his head fall back and pretend none of this was happening. It was filthy. He was letting Snoke’s dog go down on him like some courtesan in the outer rim planets.

He certainly had the enthusiasm of one.

Kylo straightened up for a minute, pulling his mouth off of Hux’s cock and wiping at his face. He was panting hard and Hux could feel the wet warmth of his breath against the inside of his thigh as Kylo struggled to pull one of his gloves off with his teeth. Was he trying to be sexy? It looked haphazard and clumsy and yet, Hux felt his lip twitch. He turned it into a scoff before it became fond. The other hand still gripped tightly to his thigh, the thumb rubbing back and forth against his skin.

“Lift.” Kylo said.

“What?” Hux said, mesmerized by deep pink of Kylo’s wet swollen lips. 

“Lift your ass.” Kylo said, tugging on his pants. Hux lifted his ass.

The pants now around Hux’s ankles, Kylo spread apart the smooth thighs in front of him, slid a hand under each knee, one still gloved, and pulled Hux into a slouch. Hux let out a little cry of surprise.

Kylo pressed the side of his face against one his left leg, his ungloved hand feeling and touching and _massaging_ at the inside of his right thigh. Kylo’s breath was warm against Hux’s dick and he squirmed a little. The sound of their heavy breaths, out of sync with each other, was the only noise in the room. His large body, curled over Hux’s lap, strong but subordinate, radiating an intimate warmth.

“Ren--” Preparing to complain, to _whine_ , when Kylo turned his head and sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of Hux’s thigh, and then began to suck on the skin. “Mmm-- _Ahh_ \--Ren-” he hated himself for making the noise, but he couldn’t stop the little gasp. Ren’s breath caressed the top of his thigh as he worried hungrily at the skin. The goddamned man was going to leave him looking like an old beaten peach. Like some piece of property. He tugged hard on Ren’s hair, hand tightly cradling the back of his skull, and Ren’s lips pulled away with a loud _smack._

“You’re mine.” Ren said, unprompted. His voice was a low growl that resonated in Hux’s chest. His eyes had a softer expression now. Trying to convince Hux, maybe. But it all could shift at the drop of a hat, Hux knew all too well. “Don’t fight it,” there was a strange casualness to his voice. Not a plea: something closer to admonishment. “We both know what we’re doing here.” 

“D-do we now?” Hux asked heavily, trying to hold his voice with casual amusement. It only half-worked.

He sucked harder, then pressed a few wet kisses and licks higher up, centering in on a sensitive spot just by his balls. Another small moan skipped out of Hux’s mouth. Was he being too loud? His hand combed through his Ren’s hair, sweeping it back from his face. Hux loved the way it felt to run his fingers through it. A surge of dominance ran through him and a smirk twitched onto his face and then fell away as he moaned; eyes sinching shut. 

Hux was now several steps beyond turning back, though still distantly he fantasized about it. Shoving Kylo off of him, straightening himself out, and leaving for the Finalizer. Likely this would end in some sort of brutal show of force, Hux being dragged back into the room and reminded of his place, the door slamming shut. It might not, though. Even if it did, it might not be so bad.

Ren moved to the other thigh, opening his jaw wide to drag his teeth down in a gentle bite before pressing a kiss and a sigh. A threat, and then a promise, maybe. Then back to Hux’s dick. Letting the tip of it brush against his lips. Hux took in a slow, measured breath, running a thumb along Kylo’s cheek. How had this all begun? With anyone else he might have marveled at how easily he was being taken apart. With Ren, well. It was half mystery he was still alive.  

The gloved hand slid up under Hux’s shirt to fondle at him, dragging over skin, thumb catching briefly over his navel. He moved his hand to the side of his hip where his grip settled tightly. Hux bit the inside of his mouth to prevent a complaint. The grip was firm, not quite bruising. The ungloved hand was sweaty and possessive on the inside of his thigh.

Hux couldn’t stop imagining someone coming in, somehow overriding the controls set with an emergency code. But there was no one with the proper authority unless the ship was in crisis mode. There was no one to burst in the door. No one to read their minds but each other. “Mmmmh - Ren -” He couldn’t shut himself up.

Ren raised his head to meet his eyes, not letting go of Hux’s cock in his mouth. His eyes flashed. He began to sink down lower on Hux’s cock, slowly, tongue rubbing against a vein. His lips were obscenely red, and there was a smudge of drool on his chin. Hux let out a shaky exhale and smoothed the sweaty raven hair that was falling on Ren’s face. He looked flushed and vulnerable. Hux let out another little moan of protest at the sight, eyes wandering along that pink scar. He watched, rapt. Kylo, leader of the Knights of Ren, on his knees, sucking down a cock. Unashamed, almost matter of fact.  _Stars_. It was too much. 

Hux tugged back on Ren’s hair again and watched him reluctantly pull off of Hux’s cock, giving his head a stubborn, teasing suck as he let it go. His breath was still fairly even. His face was unsure. Hux pulled Ren into a sudden kiss.

He pressed needily against him, claiming, dominating. Prepared to be chastised, Kylo didn’t understand what was happening until several beats later, as Hux's teeth tugged at his bottom lip. Hux was kissing him without thought or hesitation. 

Finally, he seemed to fly into gear. He straightened up and pushed back into the kiss, making a _million_ little intoxicating sounds that in his deep timbre made Hux kiss him harder. Hux stopped worrying about someone walking in. Let them see and die.

Nearly out of breath, Hux tried to pull out of the kiss. Ren leaned in hungrily, fiercely maintaining the kiss, trying to keep his tongue in Hux’s mouth. Hux had been worried _he_ was being loud, but Ren’s little grunts and moans - not to mention his eagerness, were going straight to his dick. 

Hux turned his face away, finally breaking the kiss, leaving Ren panting against his cheek. Hux caught his breath and then tightened his grip on Ren’s hair. He tugged his head back, bearing this throat. Kylo looked at him in confusion. He could stick a knife in his throat, now. He felt the cold metal in his sleeve - it would only take a second. He could see the same realization flash across Ren’s face. “What are y - ?”

Hux leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of Ren’s jaw. He felt Ren's stiff body suddenly relax again, Kylo exhale felt a rush of breath. He had been a second away from attacking. Hux ran his teeth along his throat. Bit him just enough to hurt. Ren made a small sound of surprise. Hux didn’t stop. He left a bruise over Ren’s jugular and another on his collar, listening raptly to the little grunts Ren was making. So needy. He had worked on Hux like he knew what he was doing, but now he was as soft and malleable as clay.

Hux moved up and kissed him again eagerly, wanting to hear more of those little noises, wanting to hear Ren making them against his own mouth. Ren leaned into it hungrily. He would look good, Hux suddenly realized, stretched out on his bed like this. _With no control. At my mercy._ He had come on with all the force of a falling star but of course - now he was proving himself easy and submissive. Hux pulled out of the kiss and looked at him.

He was so unprepared for the look on Ren’s face, he nearly zipped himself up and called the whole thing off right then and there. It struck him in two cords. The expression was unguarded, open, vulnerable and...yes, still so needy. For sex? For...

It made his ego flourish in its wantonness. Ren had never bared himself like this before, he was sure of it.

It also made him nervous, repulsed. Who was Ren to look at him with such vulnerability? The supreme leader should not be so weak. _If I were Supreme Leader--_

He forced the thought away before it could germinate into anything more caustic. He could bring that fire out in him, he knew. He relished the opportunity, but perhaps not tonight. Fiercely, brutally, he yanked on Ren’s hair and kissed him bitterly, with force and teeth. Having Ren in this position was better than being Supreme Leader. He had the power of the force on his side, or close enough - and now he had submission. Ren would work with him on running the FO and even if it meant acting as Ren’s personal shadow for the first several cycles, he would bear it like this. With Ren’s hair between his fingers and his breath in his mouth, warmth leaching into his skin and weakness let out here, behind a closed door or underneath some sheets.

Ren snarled and fought back into the kiss, as if in defense of his own weakness. Good. Ren’s gloved hand was working on him, harshly so Hux almost nudged him off. Ren sat back and licked the glove sloppily like he knew what Hux was thinking, before returning to both the kiss and Hux’s cock. It only slightly improved the situation. And the gesture was so - so filthy and so overdone Hux felt struck again by the strangeness of the situation. Ren was nearly half his posturing. He mused about Ren’s dick then; was it all posturing too? Hux wondered if Ren expected him to return the favor; to get on his knees and choke down whatever measly joystick Ren had to offer. Not likely.

Still. It had been a long time since Hux had been with anyone for anything this cardinal. He pushed a hand against Kylo’s chest until he was sitting back on his haunches. His expression was dazed.

"Let me come on your face.” Hux panted. Ren looked at him, face blank. Then he shifted closer, replaced his hand with his mouth, going hard to work, dragging Hux closer to the edge, pulling moans from him, making him wonder if he'd ever get an answer; stopping himself from canting his hips up into Ren’s mouth as the sound of his cock being sucked filled the room. Ren pulled off, ripped the glove off his hand, and licked his lips.

“Do it,” he said. Like a command. He had one hand working on Hux fast, now. He licked Hux’s cock, obscenely slow, sucked the head into his mouth for a long, delicious moment. “Don't make me wait, General.”  

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe kylo ren was the devilman crybaby in our hearts all along
> 
> The next chapter will be a little bit of a wait. I'm not as far ahead as I normally am, and I'd like to catch up. I'm anticipating this will be >~20K. 
> 
> If you like what you're reading, have thoughts, feelings, whatever, please leave a comment! It's the best motivator.


	4. A Lesson in Sisphean Complexes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a moment of weakness, Ren's better nature shifts back to the passenger seat, leaving Hux playing a dangerous game of chicken with an unpredictable ally who'd just as soon stab him in the back as hold him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who wants to buy me the last jedi so i can write 3x faster while wincing at rian's bad writing

Hux ran a hand back through his hair. Panting, his eyes on the ceiling. Warmth seeped into his chest where Kylo’s hand rested. His heart was slowly returning to a normal beat. On the floor, between his legs, Kylo Ren was finishing himself off.

Hux could hear the sounds of skin against skin, hear the urgent little sounds Ren was making. He didn’t ask Hux for his help. His forehead was pressed to Hux’s bare thigh, his warm breath scattering across Hux’s skin, and when Kylo shifted he felt a little of his own cum smear on his thigh. There was the occasional drag of teeth, the little melody Ren’s moans were making in the apartment.

“ _Uggggh_ _,_ Hux...” Ren said against his skin.

Hux felt his lip twitch. He straightened up, slowly. He wasn’t quite tired. He couldn’t see much; Ren nearly still in full regalia. There were Ren’s heavy breaths, his little twitches of pleasure, the jerking motions of his hand carried in his shoulder. The other hand, desperate in it’s palming at his chest, desperate to get at Hux's skin. Ren had looked so good with his cum spread along his face. Had been so willing. Perhaps he should repay the kindness.

“ _Ren_ ,” he said. “Look at me when you come.” his voice was demeaning. Like he was chastising a trooper.

Ren moaned against his leg, but straightened up, still panting. The come was still wet on his face, but he already sounded close.

“You--” Ren began to speak between heavy breaths. “Command so sweetly, General.” his face had splotchy patches of red, and his mouth was hanging open, his lower jaw jutted forward just slightly. Like it did sometimes when he was angry. “Touch me.” It wasn’t an order.

Hux leaned over, and Ren’s hand slipped out from under his tunic to allow him. Hux put his hand on the side of Ren’s neck, staring into his black eyes. Ren let out a little grunt of approval. He pressed his thumb against Ren’s windpipe, not enough to hurt. Just a press, the rest of his fingers brushing the ends of Kylo’s hair. “Mmmmm...” Ren moaned in approval. “Take that off.” he nodded at Hux’s uniform. He was naked only from the waist down, of course. He was still half dressed in the clothes for the ceremony.  

Hux inclined his head just a millimeter. He unfastened the tunic at the throat, and then at the chest, revealing his black sleeveless undershirt. He was getting hot, anyways. He shrugged it off but paused before moving any further. “Why?”

“I want to return the favor.” He said, eyes roaming across Hux’s newly bared skin, and Hux knew immediately what he meant. He had let Hux come all over his face. He wanted to mark Hux in return, paint his pale chest with his own claim. Wanted to plant a flag in case anyone else showed up trying to claim him; as if that would stop them. Hux considered him. He wanted to push his thumb against that rebellious lower lip of his. It almost wasn’t enough, even with his cum drying on Ren’s face. What harm would it do to let Ren finish himself in kind? To let him finish his little map across Hux’s skin? None, really.

“I think I rather like you where you are,” Hux replied coolly. His thumb was pressed between Ren’s clavicles, just enough to feel the slight restriction, not enough to hurt him. He liked having Kylo in his place. Kneeling between his legs, begging. It was about karffing time.

"Hux--” Ren said in warning. “I want you--”

“I don’t care.” Hux interrupted. He loosened his grip and moved his hand up to cradle Kylo’s face, too firmly. “You’ve had your way more than enough tonight. Your filthy cock is right where it belongs.”

Ren’s hand sped up at the word _cock._ Hux was actually rather curious about it. But he couldn’t see it from where he was sitting. He started to straighten up, to get a good look.

A ping came from the door. A request for entry. Hux’s heart skipped a beat in surprise, his head jerking towards the panel. Ren’s did the same, but he seemed less alarmed.

“It’s your pet.” Ren scoffed, not stopping, but slowing down. This was not particularly helpful. Hux had more than a few loyal subordinates fit the title under Ren’s definition.

“IV-42, Identification,” Hux said to the small panel on the wall. IV-42 was his soon-to-be-full-time droid assistant. It was the droid’s responsibility to know where he was, to patch into his room like this and act as an in between. He wasn’t sure if it would work; it was likely waiting for him on the transport he had meant to leave on if it hadn’t gone back to the Finalizer in search of him already.

“Lieutenant Datol, Sir,” The droid’s voice responded from the panel.

Hux’s eyes shot to Kylo, whose face was now issuing a bitter challenge. It was the very man who’d set Ren off on him in such a frenzy in the first place. He would need to answer it, though. Datol was in charge of too many important projects to ignore. Looking at Ren, he knew that trying to speak reason would be ineffective. He had just had Hux’s cock down his throat but still, he was jealous of a little lieutenant with a crush. Perhaps he should have said yes to Ren’s earlier request. It wouldn’t serve him to do it now; he didn’t want to clean up and it might seem defensive.

Hux turned down to finally catch a glimpse of Ren’s dick. It was big, leaking and red in Ren’s hand.

“I have to answer it,” Hux said, eyes flitting up to meet Ren’s.

“Don’t.” Ren deadpanned.

“You’re jealous.”

Ren’s face twisted. “I’m not--” his hand movements faltered. The door pinged again.

“IV-42,” Hux said, and the blue light by the panel in the wall lit up, waiting. Ren watched him, waiting to react. “Tell him I’ll be just a minute,” he didn’t look away from Ren. “Give him something to be jealous about, Ren.” he looked pointedly at Ren’s cock, and this time he did press his thumb against Ren’s bottom lip. “Give me something to think about the next time he tries to usurp your authority for an audience with me.”

Ren’s hand started to move again, and Hux almost reached down to help him. He watched Ren's face, his eagerness, and relented. Placing his hand over Ren’s, feeling the velvet skin of his cock through the spaces of his grip. He was flushed and warm, and Ren was moaning in his ear.

“Earn it, Ren.” Hux licked his lips, their hands going to work.

* * *

 

Hux answered shortly, his shoulders straight, hair only slightly disheveled. He was tucked into an overly large black leisure robe of Ren’s. He didn’t like the idea of borrowing clothes, but it was late and his trousers were wrinkled to hell. It had been faster to kick off his boots, pull up his briefs, and wrap himself in the knight’s soft robe than to redress. Ren was in the refresher, presumably washing his face. He need only hide until Datol was gone.

“Lieutenant,” Hux said to Datol stiffly, following their formal greetings. The sooner this was done with, the better. “What brings you here at this hour?” The robe smelled like Ren. A smell of musk and Myhr. With the refresher door closed, Hux didn't think Datol would be able to hear Ren moving around.

“My apologies, Grand Moff,” Datol replied. He wasn’t overconfident. He was professional, calm. If he had urgent news he was holding it well. “There were matters we needed to discuss sooner rather than later, and I was unaware you were remaining on the ship overnight. I attended to other matters so that you might combine with the Supreme Leader. I was halfway to the Finalizer before I got word.”

Hux didn’t want to hear his excuses, valid or not. Datol was a reliable soldier but Hux was tired, and the longer he stood here talking to Datol the more likely Ren was to complain or get angry. He was too tired to deal with angry Jedi, or whatever Ren was, and he was just above being too tired to deal with this. He forced himself not to look over his shoulder and watch for Ren. 

“I understand, Datol, but you haven’t answered my question. Why are you here? You couldn’t wait until my next shift on the bridge, I presume,” He needed to get Datol the fuck out of here as soon as possible. 

Datol looked a bit uncomfortable, though he may have been feigning it. “May I come in, sir?” he asked.

Bad idea. “It’s very late, Datol.” There was every chance that Datol didn’t know the Kylo Ren was still on board the ship, even if he realized Hux was in the room for the highest ranking officer. In fact, if he had known there was even a chance of Ren appearing, he wouldn’t have come.

“It’s a sensitive matter,” Datol replied, his face cool but tone instant. _Not a chance, Datol, I’d rather lose a limb than have this get out._

“He has news about Phasma.” Ren chimed in, suddenly at his shoulder. _Oh, kriffing--_

Startled, Hux turned to give him a reproachful look. His expression darkened further when he saw that Ren had dressed down; he was wearing a black tank top that fit him very slimly, not unlike the one Hux had been wearing, though the material looked different. It was tucked into a pair of loose black pants; he’d at least thought to put a clean pair of pants on. He was in his socks, but so was Hux. There were a few stray droplets of water on his face and dripping from his hair. He was quite an image, but it was _not_ the image Hux wanted presenting next to him late in the night while he was at the door wearing only his underthings and a robe, his and Ren’s cum still drying on his thigh.  _Goddamnit, Ren!_

Hux turned back to Datol to survey his face. _Shit._ He was hiding his surprise poorly. How bad exactly did this look?

A pregnant pause stretched over between the three of them. Hux felt a thousand different excuses running through his head. Ren clearly wasn’t going to offer any.

“Supreme Leader!” Datol finally burst, dropping to a knee. _That ought to please him, at least._ Hux's face was a mask of cold distaste. 

“That’s enough, get up. You have news about Phasma.” Kylo said curtly. Hux threw him a look, but wouldn’t reprimand him in front of Datol. Hux, in socks and a robe and Ren in leisure-wear that could easily serve as sleepwear. Hux felt his teeth lock down on each other, and he fought the urge to grind his teeth together.

“Y-yes, Supreme Leader,” He straightened up. He no longer seemed bothered by talking in the hallway. He glanced at Ren, then seemed to think better of it and fixed his eyes on Hux. He was still regaining his composure, but he was doing a much better job of it now.

“Out with it.”

“The person previously recovered and identified as Phasma has been confirmed to be her. She has been gravely injured. Medics are doing all they can, but the prospects seem grim. They’re attempting to decide what to do about--” he paused, swallowed. “They are unsure if it is worth the risk of transporting her here. They need a decision by the end of the gamma shift this cycle. If she remains, she may fare better. Transport puts her at risk. But if she dies, we may be unable to spare the resources to retrieve her body for a proper funeral.

“What are the benefits of transport?” Hux demanded, forgetting everything else. Phasma was one of his greatest allies. They had worked together through much, she was invaluable. The First Order couldn’t afford to lose her permanently.

“We have more equipment on hand, more talented medics on the Finalizer. We can spare some, but we have to think about how much we’re willing to risk for one person. Every medic we send now may be needed later. Our medics near the wreckage of the Supremacy are not inadequate by any means, and they have resources.”

Hux felt two impulses fighting under his skin. His jaw was clenched so tight his teeth might crack. A vein pulsed on his temple like it was being held down.

“What are the nature of her injuries?” Hux demanded.

“I’m afraid I don’t have details. I understand burns seem to be the biggest concern at the moment.” Datol replied. If he was posturing, or cowering, or making any judgments about the state of his leaders, Hux didn’t notice. Datol temporarily filling in for parts of Phasma’s duties was all well and fine for now, but it wouldn’t do in the long run. If Ren was right, and Datol’s interest in him went anything beyond personal accomplishment and respect, it could complicate things. And Phasma was an invaluable tool, as she had proven many times before.

Hux was just about to issue his order to have her brought to the Finalizer when Ren spoke.

“Leave her,” he said. Hux felt a jolt of surprise shoot through him. “Keep me posted on her status, but leave her near the wreckage for now. If she wants to live, she will.”

Datol glanced awkwardly at Hux before nodding in assent. “As you say, Supreme Leader.”

“Is that all, Daton?” Ren asked.

“Yes, sir.” He looked a bit taken back, but he didn’t let his annoyance show, nor did he correct Ren.

“Then do as I say. Go.” Ren slammed his hand against the panel by the door and it slid shut. Hux turned to stare at Kylo, for once at a loss for words. “He’s too presumptuous with you. _Familiar_. If she dies we’ll replace him.” Hux wondered if Datol could hear him from the other side of the door.

He turned to look at Ren only after trying to reign in the frustration so alive on his face. He had been standing overly close, and instinctively Hux stepped away from him.

“Supreme Leader...” Hux forced his face into a look of neutrality. “That was my decision to make.”

“That sort of defeats the point of being Supreme Leader,” Kylo replied wryly, as though they had just been discussing the weather on Jakku. “Let’s go to bed, _General_.”

“Ren,” Hux said to his retreating back. “Perhaps if you could reconsider--”

“What?” Ren stopped in the doorway to the next room, looking incredulous. “What decision?”

“Phasma is a valuable asset and I think it’d be best if you’d let me decide--”

“That’s not on the table, General. I don’t like him. I didn’t think you cared much for simpering fools yourself...but perhaps I was mistaken.”

For a man who could command forces of fate -- Hux had seen him strip apart the minds of rebel scum like he was peeling fruit, carding through their brains like pieces of data -- Ren was proving himself to be incredibly dense.

“Supreme Leader --” He saw Ren’s hand twitch and he felt his mouth seal shut without his consent. His mouth was open again in a second, ready to argue, but that moment struck him to the core.

“You’re so quick to return to the comfort of formality.” Ren sneered and turned away, all before Hux could find his words again. “Like you didn’t just have your hand on my dick, begging me to come for you.” his voice was heated and bitter, and Hux could picture the look on his face without seeing it.

He wanted to sit him down and force him to listen to reason. He wanted to throttle him. The muscles of Ren’s shoulders were as stiff as drying cement, but he was breathing hard, and Hux wondered if he was going to break something. He took a small step back, eyeing the nearest object Ren might use as a projectile, or a blunt object to beat into the wall the same way he had with his helmet.

He would make his point and leave. If Ren could only see reason...

“Datol is--” _not the issue_ , he might’ve finished. What had he been thinking, coming here with Ren? When it all came down to it, it was all talk. If Hux had rejected him before, Ren would have slunk back like the angry wounded dog he was. Instead, he’d succumbed, tired and...and what? What about Ren was so goddamned persuasive that he hadn’t simply shot him down at the advance? Something about Ren had been so goddamned intoxicating. He’d felt it in that closet before too, for just an instant, with Ren towering over him, crowded in his space. He’d pushed it down and thought it gone for good.

Watching Ren strike into action was like watching a krykna impale a Dokma on one of its six spindly legs. It happened in a flash, stone turning back to muscle; he flung something - Hux wasn’t even sure what - across the room. Hux took a precautious step back. He didn’t flinch when it shattered against the far wall.

There was no use trying to talk to Ren now. His face twisted in a scowl, Hux glanced at the door. He didn’t know if he wanted to risk taking the time to put his clothes on and leave, but it didn’t seem there was any benefit in staying. It was late. There was little chance he’d come across anyone of significance, and if he did - well - he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

He turned, arms fastened behind his back as though he’d been dismissed, and made for the door. He had to unlock it before it would slide open again. At least Ren hadn’t destroyed the panel.

“ _Where_ are you going?!” Ren yelled. His voice was like drums in Hux's ear, and he could feel Ren’s eyes burning into the back of his skull. “I didn’t dismiss you.” there was a note of childishness in his voice. That was what it all came down to with Ren. The vulnerability in his voice was like an open wound, and Hux wanted to run his nails over it. He had been a fool to indulge in the moments of superiority and power he’d felt with Ren on his knees; the sweet satisfaction of the memory was already fading fast into a sea of bitterness.

The doors began to slide open. “ _General,_ ” Ren’s voice was placing bets it couldn’t cash. The door made a loud grating noise as he forced them closed again. “Answer me!”

Hux rounded on him, his face cold with anger. And damn Ren for being vile and looking vulnerable. 

“I have business to attend to on the Finalizer,” he said curtly. “As I tried to tell you before. You can finish up whatever _this_ is without me, I’m sure.” If Ren wanted attention, well, he could get it from somewhere else. Let him call up _that girl_ and try to talk his way back into her thoughts if it was so important to him. “The door, please.” Hux added stiffly.

Hux stood in front of the door, despite feeling the pull of Ren’s need behind him like a black hole. He’d made enough mistakes for one night. He wouldn’t be tempted into any more.

The doors opened, and he stepped into the hallway, Ren’s eyes on his back until he turned the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Hux. He only has that _one friend_. Kylo, who has _no_ friends sans the ever missing KOR, doesn't understand why he's so upset.
> 
> [If this ain't the definitive classic kylux beat idk What Is](https://ourdeathswillstopnothing.tumblr.com/post/170622703471/r%C3%B6yksopp-rong-feat-robyn)
> 
>  
> 
> STORY NOTES:
> 
> \----Ren calling Datol 'Daton' isn't a typo. lololol  
> \----The outline I had for this chapter ended up producing too much material for one chapter, so shifted some things around, and I think it'll end up at 6 chapters now! But who knows. I'd always rather underestimate and surprise than overestimate and disappoint. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!!!! I'm hoping the next one will be out in a week or so. Leave me comments!!! Tell me I'm not just...shouting into the void.


	5. Subjugation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo continues to spiral; Hux sits down for a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAN, I wish that tweet from one of the Star Wars writers about Hux being a virgin had come out before I'd started this...lololol  
> Fun fact:  
> Hux is the 3/3 of the FO trio be canonized as a virgin. Phasma is #confirmed in her novel and Kylo was confirmed by fuckin Adam Driver and Rian themselves which. fasdfasdf  
> that said i mean, I think Rey and Finn are also canonically virgins so. Whatareyagonna do?

Kylo Ren watched Hux go in disbelief; still dressed in only Kylo’s robe and a pair of slim black briefs underneath. As he walked off, he carded his hand smoothly through his ginger hair, though it was only slightly out of place. Kylo felt his lip twitch with regret. He had wanted to run his hands through it, ruin another piece of that facade. Hux had been slouched over and moaning and it had gotten a little fussed. The thought of him, legs spread and pouting down at him, giving orders, contrasted with his retreating back sent another jolt of anger through him.

 _That dirty bastard._ He thought. “I WANT THAT BACK, HUX!” He screamed. “YOU DON’T GET TO JUST KEEP MY SHIT!” He wanted Hux to stop in his tracks, to turn around and sneer at him and stroll back through the hallway like the prissy piece of shit he was and he wanted him to close the door and yell in his face. He wanted to shove him, to feel the solidness of Hux’s lean body against his hands when he did it. His hand twitched.  And he wanted to get up in his face and remind Hux of who he was, and what was expected of him. To let the robe slide off his shoulder so Kylo could gnaw on his skin and leave marks, claim him.

And anyway -- he loved that goddamned robe. Kylo was really goddamned tall and it wasn’t so easy to just go around and fucking pick something up on any planet, human or not. And Kylo’s tastes weren’t exactly common, not that they could be, with his position. It was about intimidation and fucking practicality. You couldn’t slice through a hoard of rebellious aliens or tame a Reek if you didn’t even have range of motion. The robe was a favorite of his because it was one of his only goddamned casual wear, and there was Hux, strolling off down the hallway taking everything good with him.

   _I could drag him back here myself. Make him subjugate himself to me_.  But he knew he wouldn't.

Hux turned the corner, not looking back at him. “SO WHAT?” He wanted to scream. “YOU JUST CUM IN MY FACE AND LEAVE, YOU ASSHOLE?” but he didn’t. Instead, he let the doors close, and then he started to  _really_  go to work on the room. He punched a hole in the wall, tossed things off the desk, and he went into the bedroom and did more of the same in there; smashed the reflector above the washbasin in the refresher, felt a little more satisfied when he saw the blood against the porcelain, the bruises forming on his knuckles, though he’d regret it later.

He went into the first room and sent two messages from a datapad he’d intentionally left intact. One for a clean-up droid, and the other to an ally. Leaving the wreckage of the room behind him, he went to make a call. There was a Knight of Ren waiting to hear from him.

* * *

To say that things were uncomfortable on the Finalizer following the fight wouldn’t quite hit the right mark. Armitage Hux had spent his life surrounded by a few types of people. There were those who acted -- like the boy who had thrown rocks at his head his first year in the academy, brandishing him as an enemy of the masses before he had a chance to defend himself. Who had given him the scar on his scalp, an inch into his hairline above his left temple. Like his father, who beat him and scolded him.

His first thought when he’d been told his father was dead was still searching.  _And no one will ever know: you created the tools for your own destruction. Phasma will continue to rise in the First Order and so will I. Are you proud, father?_  Men like that boy, like his father, like Ren, with his heavy mask and his curling fingers that nearly choked the life out of him and his blind rage and his sighing mouth.

And there was the second type. Those who watched, who did nothing, like his instructors and -- well, that was all too familiar a story, wasn’t it? There were always those willing to turn a blind eye. Motivated by fear or simple complacency.

And then, of course, there were those like Sloane. Rare as though they were. Smart, perhaps sentimental. Opportunistic. Willing to step out on a limb when it counted for the right investment, even if it wasn’t based on advancement. Phasma fit nicely into this category, but he’d be thinking very generously of her if he thought she was motivated by sentiment. Very generously, or very disparagingly.

Not that she’d care.  _Whatever keeps us going, General_ , she might’ve said.  _If you have to tell yourself bedtime stories about why you can trust me, that’s fine by me. Just don’t let it cloud your judgment_.

What would Phasma think of his judgment now? Associating with someone like Ren -- he was trying to put everything that had happened out of his mind, for now. He thought Phasma would have advised as much.

He missed the sound of her voice, mutated by vocoder or not. She was one of the most competent, reliable people he’d yet to work with, and he felt ill-at-ease not knowing the specifics of her location, knowing her fate was to be left to those medics left behind near and on Crait. An emotionally pyrrhic victory if there ever was one. General Organa, the traitor, the  _girl_ , that pilot who had humiliated him--all escaped, and the Supremacy cracked in half. Snoke as well. Hux’s reputation damaged; Ren manic at the wheel of control.

Hux knew of plenty of people in the First Order he trusted, who looked up to or respected him, or at the very least honorably delegated to him. He was not so paranoid as Ren had claimed to be. But Phasma’s ruthlessness had stood out among her peers, as had her resilience. It was true, he didn’t always agree with her methods, and yet. Their alliance served him better than any other had so far. Not to mention, her worth in the First Order, while not tied to his position, certainly benefited from it, and that was as good of a motivator for her protection as any. He felt partially declawed. Yet, he would not go so far to say she was his friend. He would not say he missed her.

There was no doubt he would’ve liked someone to talk with about matters concerning Ren, however. As he’d retreated down that hallway, Ren’s yells echoing bitterly after him, he’d felt the full force of his mistake. He was reminded -- how had he  _forgotten_ , even for a second -- of Ren’s fierce madness on Crait. He wondered if he had been in a similar state on Starkiller before Hux had found him. Half dead in the snow, and wanting to die. The sheer madness that overtook him when fighting with Skywalker was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Yes. It was different from when he’d fought the girl. A different type of failure. But the look in his eyes when either Jedi was mentioned was startling. Like his face on Crait that day when Skywalker had appeared. He had seen Ren’s face go pale, ghostlike, and wondered if they were doomed. At times, he had begun to miss the mask.  _He could've dragged me back to that room easily if he had wanted to._  He had almost expected it. 

There was the matter of Datol, as well. He had almost wanted to avoid the confrontation with him as much as he’d wanted to instinctively avoid Ren. Being caught in a private room with Ren in the middle of the night, wearing nothing but a robe and denying entrance -- it did not project the image Hux was trying to cultivate as the new Grand Moff. If Datol had any smart comments on the matter, he wanted to know sooner rather than later. Hux did not hide from his subordinates.

Part of the issue was the simple culture of the First Order military. Simply put, if Snoke had ever needed to locate a sacrificial virgin for some deranged Force ritual, he would not have needed to look far. The First Order provided plenty of options. Datol had a smoothness about him, a casualness so unusual in the First Order that Ren had mistaken it for flirting when he’d seen him converse with Hux. It hardly said anything concrete about the man’s sexual attitudes or experience, but it certainly wasn’t discouraging. It was harder to throw stones, and all that; it’d be better in fact, if he  _had_ been flirting, but Hux doubted that. At the very least, he would have Ren’s support in a discrete execution, should it come to that.

Datol next came across him aboard the Finalizer, he apologized smoothly, with some chagrin. When this failed to be enough to win Hux over, he received a reprimand in the privacy of Hux’s office:

“You need to know your place, Lieutenant. I don’t need to explain to you how the rankings work. I give you an order, and you carry it out.” His voice was cold with disapproval. “Captain Phasma is clinging to life far out of our reach. Not to mention your interruption of  _highly_   _secure_  discussions involving top secret matters of the First Order that I now have to completely renegotiate.” And he had. His relationship with the Supreme Leader was now more complicated and resentful than ever. He had calculated that sharing a bed with Ren, even if only for that night, would’ve given him some advantage, and it still could, but it’d be much messier now. Especially if anyone had been close by enough to understand Ren’s screaming. “If Phasma dies as a result of these orders, you will not assume her position. There was much to be gained from having her transported here, and you will not be rewarded for this mistake with a promotion.”

It was important he emphasizes the position Datol was in: Hux was his only hope if he wanted to progress in the First Order. If Ren’s jealousy proved constant, his survival might actually depend on it.

“My deepest apologies, Grand Moff.” He bowed his head and a lock of his hair fought to get loose from its careful mold. He looked genuinely contrite.  _Good_ , Hux thought, and he meant it.

Hux sat in the chair behind his desk, gesturing at the seat in front of it for Datol to do the same. After hours of putting out fires, avoiding Kylo Ren, and putting together ideas for new technology, the day was weighing on his shoulders. He reached into a drawer under his desk, pulling out a glass of some silver spirit he’d acquired one of the last times he’d been planetside somewhere decent -- a planet in the Balmorra system where he’d spent most of his time researching in an expansive library in Illdraka.

Illdraka was a town built mainly around education and research, and once upon a time, Hux had spent a few more rotations there than he’d been sent for. In addition to new technology, endless archives of information, and more varieties of caf than Hux had ever heard of, the city had a number of varieties of alcohol he’d never seen or tried before. When his time came to leave, he’d had a small get-together with some of the planetary scientists and academics who’d been assisting his research. He’d acquired quite the impressive store of alcohol as a result of his time on that planet, not to mention the going away presents he’d received. He’s also gotten much further towards acquiring the intelligence he’d need to design Starkiller base.  _Knowledge is the best weapon,_ Phasma had once told him:   _Unless it kills you._

Looking at the bottle, he was struck with a moment of strange reminiscence. He had felt like a different person on that planet. Still young and in the lower ranks of the First Order; as low as the son of Brendol Hux might be, at least. He would not admit to missing that, either.

Hux forced himself out of his little reverie.  _What an odd thing to think of now, of all times_. He produced two glasses and offered one to Datol. It wasn’t in his habit to drink with the lieutenants outside of functions, but it had happened time to time. He had never properly had a drink with Phasma, though she’d spent enough time in his office while he sipped on something or other. She’d never taken her helmet off; it was always a one-way affair. Well, mask be damned, when she came back to the Finalizer, he’d make her have a drink with him.

“The Supreme Leader holds no favor for you,” Hux said, taking a sip. He’d never drunk with the Supreme Leader, either, though he’d been drunk last Benduday when Ren had accosted him. Not as drunk as he’d like to pretend.

Hux watched Datol’s face as he took a sip. His eyes, a light brown, were still pointed down. He had an impressive figure, truth be told, and Hux perhaps thought he should be flattered Ren seemed to think Datol was after him. He had fine, handsome jaw and square cheekbones, broad shoulders. His blond hair was carefully maintained at Order regulations, unlike Ren’s, though now that one stray piece had finally slipped away and dangled over his fine narrow forehead. “You could hardly benefit from putting yourself in his line of sight.”

“I’m aware,” Datol said, and Hux was surprised to see that he was smiling. He looked...amused.

“Why are you smiling?” Hux asked incredulously. But the look was contagious. Hux found himself suppressing a smile of his own, rather ridiculously. His eyebrows pinched together with confusion. “That’s...not a compliment. Most people might worry.”

Datol was nodding, taking another sip. He reminded Hux of somebody, though he couldn’t place who. “And they’d be right to worry. That man destroys whatever’s upsetting him the most at the moment.” He should know better than to speak this way about the Supreme Leader.  _Perhaps he doesn’t suspect anything between me and Ren, after all. Or perhaps he thinks he knows enough that I’ll keep quiet in turn._ “Pardon me, Ge--Grand Moff, can I ask you a question?”

“You may.”

“What’s...do you work well with him? His fits are legendary, and -- pardon me again,” his voice was apologetic but never dropped it’s smoothness; he was a good, but not good enough to fool Hux. He was putting on an air of guilt. Let him play his game, whatever it was. “It’s not commonly known, but it’s not exactly a secret what happened on Crait. When Ren attacked you. When I saw him in that room with you after the meeting I was half sure I’d ruined some sort of truce.” he paused, clearly having more to say, and deciding against it. Hux wanted to hear it: he stared Datol down and let the silence grow. Let the lame incompleteness of his words hang in the air. Datol looked at him, waiting for him to speak, and then continued. “And...half convinced I’d walked in on something...else. Some sort of...trap. That I ruined.”

Hux wondered where Datol was from; if he’d been born into the First Order. He’d wager he was either a select or a voluntary enlister. He was astute enough to be from the Academy, but his edges were a bit soft. Phasma hadn’t come from any disciplined training, though, and she’d risen through the First Order quickly, under Brendol Hux. He knew as much as anyone about her time before that, on Parnassus, thanks to her former colleague and Brendol Hux’s former bodyguard Cardinal. The man had tried to turn Hux against her with the information, but it had only strengthened Hux’s opinion of her. He had never told Phasma how much he’d learned from Cardinal before he’d sent her to execute him. He felt a strange sort of regret for it. Perhaps he would tell her when she returned.

“The Supreme Leader certainly won’t be remembered for his cool temper, but we must see the benefit of having a younger, more agile mind in the stead of Snoke,” Hux replied. “Lord Ren is...not the leader I would have chosen,”  _by a long shot_ , “but nothing can come from lamenting what we no longer have.” he chose his words very carefully; not showing too much favor or disgust. “And there are advantages to having a user of the Force as our Leader. We cannot defeat the Resistance without him.” He wasn’t sure if that was true. Snoke had always made it seem so.

“Because of that girl?” Datol said, his face growing more serious.

“Because of that girl,” Hux confirmed. He refilled their drinks.

“And when the girl is dead?”

Hux gave him a searching, accusatory look before he answered: “What are you asking me, Lieutenant Datol?” He looked at the door as if waiting for Ren to burst through it, ears burning. “I’m sure you’re aware of the  _might_ of our Supreme Leader,” he warned.

“Does he read your mind?”

Hux’s face twitched at the question. Datol was pushing his luck; it was towing the line of insubordination. This conversation had gone too far. He needed to course correct. He paused, and then said: “I saved his life, you know.” his voice came out more thoughtful than he’d intended.

Datol’s face opened with surprise. Hux had to hide the small shot of pleasure it sent him. He liked Datol, but he wanted to put him in his place. Let him keep guessing about the nature of their relationship.  _The less people know about you, the safer you are_. Phasma, again, when he’d commented on her mask.  

“I suppose the details aren’t important. But know when you question my loyalty to the First Order you speak to a man who puts all of us above his own desires. Kylo Ren was necessary for the First Order to succeed. And so I saved him.” He drank more of the silver spirit. “Cooperation will always be required to rid the galaxy of the entropy this  _girl_ and the resistance stand for. Kylo Ren is a part of that cooperation. So is Phasma. Keep that in mind, Datol. It will serve you well.” He stood up, smoothing wrinkles out of his uniform. “I want an update on Phasma tonight: whether it’s good, bad or the same. Bring me an update. Dismissed.”

 _Sentiment will make you weak, Armitage_.

Now, whose voice was that? Phasma’s, Ren’s, his father’s -- or his own?

* * *

“Hux,” Ren’s voice came from the other side of his locked door. He was sobering up after his office talk with Datol, not that he’d been properly drunk. He was at his leisure for once, his datapad on his desk, Millicent curled up in her small bed next to his couch, where he sat currently reading the highlights of the latest discoveries being made in technology in First Order planets. Never bad to keep up.

Now Ren was here to ruin it. He should’ve known it would be impossible to ignore him forever. But perhaps he could simply pretend not to be there. Could Ren tell the difference?

“Open the door,” Ren said, this time through the comm. “We need to talk.”

Hux didn’t feel much like talking. Just the idea of letting Ren into his room was giving him a headache. He heard Ren sigh into the comm.

“Fine.” he sounded upset. Like he might force the door. Hux stared at it, waiting. “I  _know_ you’re in there. I’m going to attend to some business. If you don’t open the door when I come back, General, I’m going to break it down.”

Hux sighed in relief when the light on the comm went red. His assistant hadn’t even warned him about the visitor. Ren must’ve used an override.

A few hours passed, and eventually, Hux got off the couch, showered, and went to bed. Next time, his IV-42 did wake him up.

“Repeat that,” he said.

“Lieutenant Datol is at the door, sir. He’s requesting entry.”

Hux groaned despite himself. “What on earth does he want?”

“He says it’s urgent, sir.”

“Alright. I’ll be at the door in a moment.” He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice and failed. He liked Datol, but Hux hated to be woken up. Phasma would’ve known as much. He was used to having his sleep interrupted by Snoke’s summons, and in response to major crises, but Datol was new to his direct command, and it was the second time in a week.

Hux sighed, climbing out of bed and slipping a soft black robe on over his near-nakedness. He was wearing only a black tank top and a matching set of briefs. He usually slept in more; he had a rather nice set of bamboo sleepwear he was rather fond of, but lately, it all felt too heavy to sleep in, even his softer thin cotton sets. He tied the robe closed around his waist and ran a hand back through his hair.

When the door slid open, he was struck with a strong sense of deja vu at the sight of Datol in the hallway. What was he playing at?

“What is it, Lieutenant?” Hux asked irritably. “I hope it’s worth waking me up at this hour.”

“Sir, I apologize -- can I come inside?”

_This again?_

“Is it urgent?”

“Yes, sir.” He swallowed.  _Does he think Ren is in here again_?  _Come in, man, satisfy your curiosity but know if your news isn't worthy you're looking at a demotion._

“Come in.” He stood to the side and Datol walked in. He looked a bit distressed himself. Hux sat behind his desk and waited to hear whatever it was. He had his datapad under his left hand, at the ready.

“I’ve received some scattered communications from those stationed by the remains of the Supremacy.” He said. His voice still held that same charisma Hux associated with him, but he sounded tired, reluctant. At the mention of the Supremacy, Hux felt an eyebrow quirk up. “At 1200 hours this cycle, the evacuee from the Supremacy believed to have been Captain Phasma went into severe seizures, the cause of which is unknown. Medics were able to stop the convulsions and kept her monitored. They believed she had stabilized," he paused, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but in Hux's office. "but they returned again at 200 hours.” He swallowed. Hux was on his feet, stare boring into Datol's face.

“What is her current status?” He demanded.

Datol swallowed. “I was told her convulsions continued for several more minutes, and that she never regained consciousness. They were unable to stabilize her.”

Hux’s eyes were bulging out of his skull so far they might have fallen out. This was the last news he had been expecting. “What are you saying?”

“Hux--" he paused, corrected himself. "Grand Moff -- Captain Phasma is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren is about to get a goddamned earful.
> 
> \----------------------------------------------------  
> Before I was a Kylux girl my BigMain was Hannigram and before that it was Frostiron and on tumblr I can SEE people who shipped one of those (or Tyrelliot from Mr. Robot which is...My Shit) all have a LOTTA crossover so like. if you're out there. and ur like me. just TELL ME.... validate my choices ???!


	6. Precautions Not Made Often Long to be Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren pays Hux a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry if you're subscribed and it looks like a double update. There was an issue with the first upload and I had to delete the chapter and resubmit it, but it IS a brand new chapter.

“What did you say?” Hux was completely dumbfounded.  

“General--Gran--” Datol’s face was open with regret. The repercussions of such news were not lost on him, clearly.

Perhaps he understood what was at stake. _Finally_.

“ENOUGH WITH THE TITLES, DATOL!” Hux yelled. He was shaking. The words were all like rushing waves of water in his head, and he couldn’t hold onto them any more than he could make sense of them. Distantly, he heard Millicent scuttle from the room.

“Phasma is dead,” Datol confirmed, his skin looking very pallid.

“Phasma is-- get out,”  Hux said. “get out of here right now.”

“Grand Mof--” Datol was moving towards his desk and Hux turned to stare at the wall, disgusted. With this inferior Lieutenant, with himself, with that abominable Kylo Ren and how literally he’d been cut off at the knees by him.

“I will decide how to delegate Captain Phasma’s responsibilities soon,” Hux cut him off icily. “For now, everyone should continue as they are. Who knows?” He clenched and unclenched his hands and then found himself drumming his left fingers on the table. His father had tried to beat that little habit out of him, he remembered suddenly. He stopped.  

“Aside from those responsible for her health and us, no one,” Datol assured him.

Hux nodded. “Ren?”

“Not yet.”

Good. Good. It gave him some advantage. He may have lost his right hand but he could control who took her place. Just the thought sent a fierce bite of anxiety and anger through him.  He wanted to put his head down in his arms, but he wouldn’t do it while Datol was here.

If he were Kylo Ren, he might simply shred the room, leave it looking the like Supremacy Throne room after Ren’s brief betrayal. He’d have to kill Datol too, of course. Tighten his gloved hands over that glorious column of skin between his shoulders until he stopped thrashing.

It was tempting if only for a second. Then he was disgusted and furious that he had thought for even a moment behaving like Ren could be any kind of solution. There was not a time for such idiocy or indulgence.

“There’s a small cabinet in the caf table just there, Lieutenant. Bring me the bottle of brandy and a glass.”

Datol fetched it silently, and Hux took this time to take long, deep breaths. If he were going to throttle anyone, it would be Kylo Ren.

“The longer we keep this from Ren, the better my ability to control the situation.” He drank half the glass in one go.

Datol gave a small nod. Hux’s eyes were blazing with quiet rage. He turned again to stare at the wall.

“You’re dismissed, Datol,” he sighed.

“Grand Moff,” Datol said. He put his hand on Hux’s shoulder, startling him. His hand moved there gently; an intimate reassurance. “I...I want to apologize.”

“Lieutenant,” Hux said. He straightened up, looked into Datol’s deep, warm brown eyes, so unlike Kylo Ren’s. They wanted to offer reassurance, comfort. Felt the warmth of his hand on Hux’s shoulder. He wanted to burn the man to ash. “You are dismissed.” he saw Datol open his mouth, as if to protest. “Please don’t mistake my frustration over your incompetence and Kylo Ren’s stupidity for friendship, Lieutenant. You are dismissed.”

Datol straightened up and removed his hand. “Of course, sir. Apologies.” A moment later, the door slid open and closed, and Hux was alone. He finished his drink and poured more. He thought of Phasma. He’d never even seen her face. That hadn’t seemed so important until now.

* * *

 “Does he know?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Tell me more.”

* * *

 

“Hux.” Kylo Ren said into the comm. It was late, and all those not working were likely asleep. It had been several hours since Datol had delivered the news of Phasma’s death to Hux. “Open the door. I warned you.”

The door slid open, Kylo Ren walked inside, feeling even more pleased. Hux hadn’t put up the slightest bit of resistance. He walked into the room, his nerves buzzing with excitement.

Hux would be ablaze with new ideas, trying to scheme viable replacements for Phasma -- and her position would require multiple replacements-- perhaps propping up subordinates like Unamo, Mitaka, and Datol. No doubt there would be some Ren didn’t know, perhaps a rising star in the stormtrooper program.

Perhaps there’d be a flash of indignant anger. He could see Hux trying to collect himself, wanting to say _I warned you_ , and call him a fool but having to restrain himself because, of course, Kylo wasn’t yet supposed to know. Kylo was restraining himself but he was buzzing with power. Now was the time to break Hux, to put him back in his place. Perhaps he’d play with him at first, put on airs. When Hux demanded in that superior, resentful voice to know why Kylo had come he could make an expression of innocence and say _I just wanted to check on you, General._ Playing the teasing innocent while Hux had to stay calm and play nice.

He didn't need to read Hux's mind to know he must be scheming. 

Would he drop the news to Hux's face? He wanted to see the look on his face when he found out. But it might be equally as satisfying to simply make the announcement quietly in a message on a datapad, equipped with an attachment outlining Kylo’s pre-chosen replacements. _Condolences,_ _General_ , and drop the real bomb later.

The door slid open to Hux’s chambers, and Kylo entered, swallowing down his excitement.

"Gener--"

The room was empty.

Hux’s datapad sat on his desk, abandoned next to an empty glass. A small orange cat stared at him with wide, suspicious eyes from the seat of a black leather couch, like she knew why he was there.  

“Hux,” Kylo called. The apartment was quiet. He glanced around, thrown off guard and pissed about it. “Hux! Where the fuck did you go?” he added petulantly.

“What on earth could you possibly want?” He heard a voice say. It was Hux, no doubt about it, but he didn't sound right.  “I’ve got enough to deal with at the moment,” It was coming from the bedroom.

Moving to the doorway of the sleeping quarters, Kylo looked for the source of the voice; Hux was in the refresher. He could hear the sound of the shower going, but it didn’t sound like anyone was in it. He took a few steps towards the door and then paused. The bed was neatly made, the decorations all in order, Hux was avoiding him. But something felt off. The only sign something was amiss was the room in a large piece of fabric lying crumbled on the floor outside the refresher.

“Hux, what the fuck are you doing?” Kylo finally asked, standing a few feet outside the door. He kicked the black lump of fabric out of the way.

“Sod off,” Hux called. Ren pressed a release button by the door and it slid open while Hux was in mid-sentence. “I’m not in the mood! Ren, get out!” Kylo dodged quickly out of the way as an empty bottle went hurtling past his head. He was no longer feeling smug.

Hux was sitting on the edge of a bathtub. He was wearing the disheveled remains of his uniform. One sleeve was slipping down his shoulder in a way that looked ridiculously immodest. His black undershirt was wrinkled and there was a gap of skin revealed haphazardly. One of his boots were untied and pulled open, his pants were undone and one leg was pushed up his shin. He looked less composed than he had that night back off the Finalizer when he'd sucked gotten sucked off. His hair was losing its perfect shape and he confirmed the suspicion that the lump of fabric outside the door was his great coat. The water for the shower was on, running endlessly. He switched it off without extending a hand. Only superior officers even  _had_ aquatic showers, much less a bathtub. Come to think of it, _he_ didn't have one. 

Kylo stared at him, dumbfounded. The man was clearly drunk.

“What are you doing?” Kylo finally managed; his voice came out uneven and a small surge of confused amusement struck him. He felt his lip twitch.  

“Mourning. If you’re here, you must know.” he sniffed heavily, but his eyes were blazing through red rims like he’d had sand thrown in them.

Kylo was taken aback. “What the fuck are you moaning about? Who are you mourning?” he asked stupidly. Hux’s glare made the moments after he spoke pass like hours, letting his short-sidedness ring back at him. “ _Phasma_?” He asked incredulously. Kylo wanted to laugh, it was so absurd.

“You...” Hux closed his eyes, paused for a minute, and then moved to stand. “Absolute fool!” he sounded less drunk than he was. His anger startled him; he looked ready to tear the arms off of an acklay. He threw his crystal glass at Kylo’s face and again, Kylo easily dodged. He heard it shatter in the bedroom behind him as Hux stood up. Kylo felt a prickle of nerves on the back of his neck.

He staggered forward and Kylo nearly backed off.

 _Hux was a scared little dog who’d lost its favorite bitch_ , he tried to tell himself. But Kylo had miscalculated, and badly.

“Come here,” Kylo said like he _was_ talking to a dog.  

All the expectation of joy, the excitement of triumph was in as many pieces as the glass Hux had thrown at his face. He had played a good hand badly. “I didn’t know she meant anything to you.”

Hux was leaning on the wall for support, looking like he wanted to evacuate his stomach all over the floor and still somehow _so superior_. He could sense it without even seeing him.

He was surprisingly intimidating for someone so clearly at the bottom of a barrel. “Get out of here, Ren!” he yelled. He reeled his hand back.

The slap rang throughout the room. Kylo felt his head jerk to the side; Hux had moved so slow and yet Kylo hadn’t thought to dodge. He deserved it, but feeling the sting of it in his cheek pushed him into action. He grabbed that hand that struck him a moment after it was done and stared down into Hux’s eyes. Hux didn’t flinch away, and eventually, Kylo had to flit his eyes away.

He twisted his mouth, trying to decide what to do. A small, unremarkable expression he’d picked up from his father.

“Come here, Hux. Fuck, just--” he said again, stepping back into action, glancing at his face as he moved to grab him. “You can barely stand!” he protested when Hux tried to push him off. “Why are you so goddamned upset?" Kylo sounded like a child. "Calm the fuck down and let me take you to your bed,” he demanded.

“I don’t want to look at your face,” Hux said in disgust. "You're terrible at your job."

“Fine,” Kylo said. He grabbed Hux and slung him over his shoulder. Hux’s boot with untied laces fell onto the floor as he backed out of the room. "Don't look at it, then."

"You're fired," Hux said drunkenly.

He threw Hux onto the bed.

Hux rolled onto his back, looking ready to sheath a knife in Kylo's neck if he made a move, laying on his elbows with a scowl that would wilt whipweed. Kylo just stood by the bed uselessly, making his father’s face again.

This was _not_ going the way he’d expected. He looked around the room guiltily.

"You're drunk," Kylo replied, finally.

“Yes, Ren, thank you. I hadn't realized,” Hux said. “there’s more alcohol in that cabinet. Bring it to me.” he was pointing.

Ren found it and pulled out the first bottle he saw. His feet crunching over the glass as he walked to the bed. Instead of handing it to Hux, who had his palm out, waiting, he unscrewed it and took a long, greedy drink. It tasted like cinnamon but without anything to soften the edge. He resisted the urge to spit it out. Needless to say, he didn't have any real experience with alcohol. 

Hux glared up at him. “Are you getting in this bed or not?” 

Kylo stared at him, wordless. He wanted to be smug or to be angry. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed. He could feel, suddenly, what Hux wanted, and he didn’t understand it.

“You’re so--”

“Don’t.” Hux passed the bottle back to him after taking a swallowl. But Kylo took another long drink. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at Hux. _It should be illegal to look this good and be such a bastard._

Hux worked his hand into his hair. Of course. _You like having your hands in my hair. Is it because you want to control me?_ Hux looked surprised when he heard the thought in his head. Hux wouldn’t admit a lot of things, but Kylo thought he’d admit that. _It reminds you of what you can’t have. Outside this room, at least._

Hux’s mouth tasted like cinnamon and regret. “It’s okay,” Kylo said, unsure of what else to say. He’d never had to comfort someone like this before. Not since the uprising, at least. He’d never been very good at it.

Rey could attest to that.

But Hux’s lips were like ambrosia against his. He wanted everything from him, and he didn’t know why.

And of course, this was all completely Kylo’s fault. Only Hux didn’t know how much.

Kylo felt the alcohol slip out of his grip as Hux took it back, still kissing him tenderly. Kylo had never kissed anyone like this before. It was slow, with the slip of teeth and a slight wetness as their faces touched. Hux might’ve been crying. Before, when Kylo had been trying to suck Hux’s dick into oblivion, to see him give up control, Hux had pulled him away to kiss him. And it had been the last thing he’d expected. He thought he’d be shoved off halfway through and kicked out of his own room, more than anything. Or used and then discarded. But Hux had kissed him so needily, so perfectly, and then he’d put his hand on Kylo’s dick.

Hux pulled away from the kiss now to press the drink to Ren’s mouth. It went down with only a slight burn, and he drank until Hux pulled it away to kiss him again, leaning in closer to him so that Kylo had to lean back.

The sudden snap of teeth against his lips caught him off guard and instinctively he pushed back, reminded only by the hand cradling that back of his head that this wasn’t a game he was allowed to win.

Then press of the bottle to his lips again. He drank.

Hux slipped his hand onto Kylo’s neck, fingers dipping under the collar of his tunic. More kissing, too sweet, too alluring. Kylo was forgetting what this was for. Hux was too stubborn to have the good sense not to ruin Kylo’s entire plan. Hux wasn’t getting off his high horse to offer any apologies for acts of treason tonight, nor was he spitting fire, getting worked up in his frustration at being thwarted, or, Kylo’s favorite fantasy, subtly offering sex as an apology.

He felt both of Hux’s hands separating the tunic, pulling it out the way so he could slip his hand further along Kylos’ skin. A thumb circled the scar on his shoulder and he shuddered.

This was much more intimate than anything he’d ever thought to get from Hux.

He could still feel warm wetness against his face as Hux kissed him with the occasional scrape of teeth on his lip. When Hux took his bottom lip into his own, weird and possessive and enthralling, Kylo shut his eyes and pressed their foreheads together until Hux let go in a gentle drag that made his heart stutter. He kissed Hux’s cheek, where the scar would’ve been if he’d had one to match, unsure of why he did it. Instead of a scar he found a drop of salt smeared on his lips.

“Drink,” Hux said, pulling away. The bottle was back. He drank, Hux tipping it against his lips until it was empty. He didn’t know if either of them knew how to be this kind without it.  

“Bring me another bottle,” Hux commanded, as if reading his thoughts.

“What are you doing?” Kylo asked instead. “Just let me kiss you.”

He didn’t know why he said it. He had been thinking it, of course, but Hux knew too well already how much Ren wanted to get into his pants. And he was already starting to feel the swirl of the drink’s effects in his system; he wasn’t accustomed to it. He’d had enough to be kind, to let thoughts of endless kissing slip out of his mouth. It was enough.

Kylo nosed their lips together, feeling like he _could_ go on like this forever. Hux’s hand found its way to his throat. When the pressure started, light and firm against his windpipe, he let out a tiny grunt of approval, kissing more intently.

“More.” Hux breathed against his lips. It took Kylo a moment to realize, slightly dejectedly, he was still talking about the alcohol. He wanted him to use the force.

“Hux,” he breathed, cheek to cheek, and he thought he felt Hux shudder. “I don’t need to be drunk to fuck you.”

A sudden shove and Kylo was on his back. Hux was off the bed, moving to the cabinet in a flash. He was trying his level best to look dignified despite the fact that his legs had turned to jello.

Kylo turned to watch him, surprised and a little rejected. When Hux reached for the bottle, Kylo tugged it out of his grasp with a twitch of his finger and it landed on the bed next to his hip.

“I hate you.” Hux said, and a bit of the usual him slipped back.

He walked over to the edge of the bed and began to unlaced Kylo’s boots where they dangled off the bed, pulling them off. He smirked off his own tunic and let his pants slide off of his hips. Kylo watched, rapt.

“You’re...muscular under there,” Kylo observed, and it was true. He was lean and very thin, smaller than he looked in his uniform, but he cut an impressive figure. More than that, even dressed in black boxers and a black tank he looked nonetheless in uniform.

“You’re not the only one who knows where the training rooms are,” Hux replied.

Hux bent over him on the bed and slipped his hands under the waistband of Kylo’s pants and slid them down his hips, discarding them on the floor before crawling on the bed and straddling him. Despite his grief and his drunkenness, he looked just as defiant and in control as he did leading an assault.

He tugged Kylo’s tunic off, and then slipped his hands over Kylo’s stomach so that his tunic bunched up. Taking the hint, Ren slid it off, perching back on his elbows as Hux sat back on his thighs, cataloging him.

He might as well have a set of new schematics, so cool was the appraisal. In nothing but his well-fit boxers, Kylo felt like a stormtrooper with his pants down.

“Drink. I need you to catch up with me.” He said; though he was sounding more and more sober by the minute. As if reading his thoughts, Hux took the first drink, a long soundless swallow. He pressed the bottle to Kylo’s lips again, and Kylo just drank. He was starting to develop a slight appreciation for the taste, but he thought it was only because Hux tasted like it, too.

He looked at Kylo’s lap, observing his _interest_ with a slightly bemused expression. Kylo’s heart thudded in his chest. He felt bizarrely nervous, ridiculously vulnerable.

“What are you doing?” Kylo asked, watching Hux run a hand along the lines of Kylo’s stomach with appreciation. His face was impossible to read.

“Planning my assault.” he replied. Kylo almost pushed into his thoughts, then, just to _know_.

Then he turned his head, cinched his eyes closed. Pulled suddenly out of the moment. Kylo only watched, unsure what to do; his hand found Hux’s thigh. He had always wanted to touch Hux’s thighs; their last meeting had been the beginning of a fantasy too long unfulfilled.

He felt a sharp pinch to his own inner thigh and he cursed. Hux had his hand on the skin just below the hem of Kylo’s boxers. Hux looked at him and Kylo tried to read his expression, but it was closed off.

He ghosted his fingers under Kylo’s boxers, just touching the skin, running his hand along the warmth of his inner thigh. He held the flesh of it in his hand, avoiding Kylo’s very large, very interested cock. He pushed the fabric up his thigh, staring. In an instant, he knew Hux liked his thighs, too. Maybe more. Despite the underlying anger he _knew_ Hux had for him, despite the fact that if they weren’t drunk they’d probably be fighting, Kylo throwing things while Hux issued commands in that _voice_ of his like “That’s enough” and “Let it go, Ren” and would it end in one of them leaving indignant, or, he mused hopefully, in rough sex.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ren,” Hux said, eyes sliding up to meet his. Like _he_ was the mind reader, and he could see the fantasies flashing through Kylo's mind. He wanted to kiss him again. The hand on his leg, running along his skin, training up his leg but avoiding his cock, made him shiver. “No one is getting fucked tonight.”

“I know.” he lied. “I can distract you, though,” he said, knowing he shouldn’t. He was staring up at Hux, and part of him wanted to stay there forever, between his thighs, challenging or teasing or kissing him. The other part of him wanted to flip them over, hover over him and take him apart. _Let me show you what I can do, General_. But he kept the thought to himself. He’d never accounted for this intimacy; he wanted to see where it led them.

Hux’s eyes were losing their coldness again. Kylo sat up and kissed him because if he opened his mouth it would all come out wrong. Hux tried to break the kiss, to slide his lips to the side of Ren’s face but he turned his head stubbornly. He wasn’t done. He felt a small sigh pressed into his mouth and he shuddered. Hux put a hand on his chin to hold him, then leaned to whisper in his ear. "I like to take my time with my attacks, unlike some of us, you foolish brat.”

He could feel his face reddening. Worse, he could see a small smile spreading across Hux’s face as it happened.

“Lights, zero percent,” Kylo said, barely able to speak. Nothing happened.

“Lights, five percent,” Hux said. The lights dimmed, hiding the smugness on the General's face.

They laid there, pausing for long moments to take deep breaths. Kylo had one hand on his thigh, the other fisted in the sheets. Hux kissed him, and bit him, and kept his hand on Kylo’s thigh.

“Lay down. I’ll hold you.” Kylo said. It didn’t feel like him saying the words. They made him scared, made him feel vulnerable. He half expected Hux to laugh, and he did. But then he was lying down, pressing back against him, and Kylo had an arm around him. He was stiff, like he’d never been held before. Maybe he hadn’t. Kylo kissed differentially at the curve of his neck, and tongued gently at his ear and eventually just laid there, their bodies against each other. Hux stayed stiff until his breaths slowed and he fell asleep, and Kylo laid there listening to them and trying to figure out how to tell Hux he had lied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrug emoji* some soft kylux just kinda got in there folks idk what ta tell ya.
> 
> also i want you guys to know i had dream the other day that Domhnall Gleeson and Adam Driver were callin' me OUT for writing this shit and it was hilarious.
> 
> Just a note; I'm in my last semester at uni and i have...so many projects coming up. I have work this weekend and 3 projects and 2 exams due just this and next week, so I promise I'm working on this but it might be later than usual!


	7. Worsening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’ve had blood on my hands for a long time. The blood of Republic senators and sympathizers and my father’s, too. I would not have had her blood on my hands though, and now it seems I must have his._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little update as a belated may the fourth/revenge of the fifth!!! to assure that despite countless papers, exams, presentations, final exams and college graduation I AM still here, still writing, and the ending is an impending truth. 
> 
> I have A Lot pages for the future chapters written, but the in between is what's got me stuck. No worries. I'll get there, hopefully, sooner rather than later.

Kylo Ren woke the first time with a hard shove and an angry yell. His body caught up with what was happening before his brain; instead of rolling off of the bed he was on his feet, his hair mussed, undressed and alarms blaring in his head like death bells. His hand was out, the force working before he knew what it was he was defending himself from. Things flitted by his vision quickly; the grey pillowcase by his head, the soft sheets beneath him that maybe _weren’t_ regulation, after all, the floor swirling beneath him as he found his footing, the black metal bedside table he had just avoided slamming his head against.

His head jerked up, his mind clouded, fuzzy, aching from the alcohol he’d had the night before. He didn’t realize immediately where he was, but then he saw the lean figure, frozen in a snarl on the bed. Hux was on his knees, stuck like a wax figure still in the process of ousting a now absent figure from the bed, like a security tape on pause.

Ren relaxed, letting his hand fall. He hadn’t choked him, only held him there in a surge of defense at being woken with such sudden violence. Hux collapsed to the bed; he’d been on his knees behind Kylo, his face frozen in a mask of rage.

“I see you’re awake,” Ren croaked. His mouth was drier than the deserts of Jakku, and as he spoke, he felt the room tilt traitorously around him. Hux launched into more shouting, but he couldn’t hear it past the pounding in his skull. He felt the ground tilting towards his face, and before he could hit it, he woke up.

A dream?

No. A warning.

Ren shifted in the bed. Hux was still asleep.

The room was dark. Hux was on his side, turned away from him, sleeping soundly. Kylo ignored the headache budding like a spring flower in his head and listened to the quiet sounds of Hux’s breathing, watched the slow expansion of his ribs. He wished he could see the man’s face. He thought it might look peaceful; not cloaked in cold curtness or defensive rage or bitter pleasure, just...calm.

But there was a feeling rising in him that told him no. It was not to be. Kylo rolled onto his back, retracting the arm he’d had policed around Hux, and then got off the bed. He moved with graceful silence. His hangover hadn’t caught up with him yet. He had some tme, before his body betrayed him and Hux woke to unleash his wrath.

He opened the palm of his hand blindly in the room and felt his clothes in his hand a moment later. It was too dark to see, and Hux had shown him the night before that the lights would only respond to Hux himself, and he had to rely on other senses to exit the room to the receiving area, where the light was still on. He pulled on his clothes quietly and used the refresher out here quickly to give him a nudge towards only passingly suspicious. A moment later, wrinkled clothes on, hair finger-combed into coherence, and Hux still asleep a room over, Ren slipped out of the apartment.

* * *

 

 _That bastard_.

It was the first coherent thought that Hux would admit to having when he woke in the cold bed, sick and alone, stomach rolling. There was a pinging sound by this feet and without thinking he gave a hard kick, hitting nothing but air. He hear a eliciting a small, electronic sounding cry of protest from the same area.

Hux rolled onto his back and sat up. His droid, IV-42, was standing at the foot of his bed just out of reach of his kick, staring at him with mixed amounts of alarm and annoyance.

“I’ve brought you something, sir.”

“What is it?” he groaned.

“I’d like to approach you with it, but I’m afraid I will first need your reassurance that you won’t attempt to attack me again.”

“What? Deliver whatever it is now.”

The droid hesitated.

“I won’t attack you,” Hux sighed.

The droid approached the side of his bed, handing him a small cold container in a clear plastic can.

“What is this?” Hux asked, confused.

“To help with the side effects. Of the drinking, sir?” the droid added after a pause. “I entered this morning and cleaned up the mess.”

“Oh,” Hux said. He’d never seen anything like it before. He opened the can and it let out a small _hissss_ and he smelled it, but there was no aroma. He glanced at his droid, weighting the chances that his droid somehow had been hacked or manipulated to poison him and then, as the sinking ache in his muscles started to take control of his body, he decided: maybe it was worth the risk.

It had a strange consistency in his mouth, thicker than a liquid, like the molten lava of Mustafar, but cold and smooth in his mouth. He drank it all, rather quickly, and then fell onto his back. It was tasteless, just a strange cold substance in his mouth, and then gone.

“Was I alone, IV-42? When you came in this morning?” Hux asked.

“Why yes, sir. Quite alone.” The droid sounded surprised.

“Alright. Thank you. Where is Millicent?”

“She was rather agitated this morning, sir. I moved her to the spare room for now. I can let her out shortly, though I believe she's having a nap. Would you like a bandage, sir? For your foot? I cleaned up some blood on the floor from last night, I assumed you had stepped on the broken bottle.”

Ren must’ve when he stood up to get another bottle. Hux hadn’t noticed. He swept the blanket off of himself and found with some disgust dried blood on his legs and on the sheet. The droid interpreted his silence as hesitation. “Sir, was someone else injured? Were you attacked? I can begin a write up for a report immediately, and have the person terminated.”  

“I’m quite alright, IV. I had a pair of bacta patches handy in the bathroom. Please be sure to change the sheets,” he scowled at the stains. _He is an animal_.

It was good, really, that Ren wasn’t here. Hux could feel the sadness sloughing off of him like an old skin, giving way to fresh rage. _I’ll throttle him_. That stupid, simpering hulk of a man and his vicious, stupid pride. He’d gotten Phasma _killed_ , and worse, he’d done it while worming his way into Hux’s bed, leaving him facing a costly loss on two fronts. The stains of blood on Hux’s sheets and skin were like an extra reminder of that. _I’ve had blood on my hands for a long time. The blood of Republic senators and sympathizers and my father’s, too. I would not have had her blood on my hands though, and now it seems I must have his._

His skin crawled. The hangover was gone, but he didn’t feel right. He got out of bed and went into the refresher. There was an errant sock lying on the otherwise spotless floor, and he knew in a flash it was Ren’s.

“IV-42,” Hux said, pulling his shirt off.

“Sir?” The droid said from the doorway.

“Take that to the incinerator.”

“Right away, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop kudos, drop comments, telll me what you're thinkinggg!


End file.
